Tombstone epitaph., 1887-10-01

and handed Georges note. He opened 1t, turned livid, and, rising, said to his wife in strange manner: "Wait for me a moment, must go out; will be back in ten miudtes. Above all things, don't | go away!''
 And he ran to his room to get his hat. Berthe waited for him, tortured by a new anxiety. But, obedient in all things, she did not think of returning to her friends room before Georges should re- | turn.
 As he did not come back, it occurred to her to go to his room and see if he had taken his gloves, which would be sure sign that he had gone out to make a visit. But the gloves were there; she saw them at the very first glance. Beside them lay a piece of crumpled paper She recog- nized that also. It was the note which had just been given to Georges. And burning temptation-the very first she had ever felt in her whole life came upon her to read, to find out Her conscience, revolting, struggled against it.; but the gnawing of a painful and terribly excited curiosity urged her on. She took the paper, opened it, and recognized Julie's handwriting, trembling scrawl written HI pCllCu ouC ICttus SOulO Uy yOuIocll and kiss me, my poor friend; am going to die."
 At first she did not understand and stood there stupefled being especially shocked by the idea of death. Then, sud- denly, the familiar tone of the letter caught her attention, and as in one great lightning flash, Illuminating her whole life, she saw all the infamous truth, all their treason, all their perfldy. She un- derstood their long deceit, their looks, their silent mockery of her good faith, their betrayal of her confidence She saw them again, each in front of the other at evenings, under the shade of her own lamp, reading the same book, consulting each other with their eyes at the end of each page.
 And her heart, swollen with indigna- tion, bruised with suffering, sank in imitless despair.
 Footsteps approached; she fled and locked herself up in her own room.
 A little while after her husband called her:
 "Come quick Mime. Rosset is dying"
 Berthe appeared at her door, and said, with white and trembling lips:
 ''Go back alone to herl-she has no need of mep'
 He stared at her wildly, half crazed by grief, and repeated;
 "Quickl Quick!- is dying"
 Berthe replied:
 "You would be better pleased if it were me-"
 Then, perhaps, he understood, and went back alone to the chamber of the dying woman.
 He wept for her without dissimulation, without shame-indifferent to the grief of his wife, who no longer spoke to him or looked at him, and lived alone with her disgust for him in dumb anger-prayine morning and night to God.
 Nevertheless they still lived together, ate together at the same table-in silence and despair.
 Gradually his grief calmed down, but she did not forgive him.
 And so life went on-terribly unhappy for both of them. -.
 For one year they remained as com pletely strangers to each other as if they had never met. Berthe almost went mad
 Then one morning she left the house at dawn, and returned about 8 o'clock, car rying in both hands an enormous bouquet of roses-white roses-all white.
 And she sent word to her husband that she desired to speak to him.
 He came, feeling anxious, uneasy.
 She said to him:
 "We are going out together. Please carry these flowers; they are too heavy for me-"
 He took the bouquet and followed his wife.
 A carriage was waiting for them; it started immediately they had taken their seats.
 She stopped at the gate of the ceme- tery. Then Berthe, whose eyes filled with tears, said to Georges "Take me to her tomb" He trembled without know ing why, and walked on before her, still carrying the flowers in his arms. Finally he stopped before white marble and des- ignated it without saying anything.
 Then she took the great bouquet from him, and, kneeling down, laid it at the foot of the grave. Then she prayed for a little while-prayed suppliantly and si- lentlyl
 Standing behind her, her husband, haunted by memories, was weeping.
 She rose up, and held out her hands to him.
 "If you wish, she said, five will be friends. ."-Translatei for Times-Demo- crat from the French of Guy de Maupas- sant.